Dead Hearts
by belleami
Summary: AU. Gendry Baratheon, now a solemnly successful lawyer, just moved into a new apartment with a less than quiet neighbour downstairs. Just who is this person who keeps on disturbing him? Someone he eventually can't keep away from, that's who. Arya/Gendry. OCs. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**AN**: This little story is an alternate universe. The plot may parallel to the novels or television series in some aspects, but mostly it's based on a story idea I had which I never got the chance to write. Enjoy x

Disclaimer – I own none of these characters, the ASOIAF series, television series, the title (It belongs to Stars), Mischa Maisky, Great Ormond Street Hospital, or any of the other things mentioned here that I missed

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_.:. Chapter 1 .:._

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There weren't many female figures Arya knew who could resist the urge to spend a great sum of money on one piece of shirt. She herself is no stranger to the temptations of giving in to desires. But unlike her neighbour Margery Tyrell, she still had resistance. At the end of the day all she really needs is her iPod, worn out sneakers, DSLR, a spare film, a pen, and the little book that reminds her of it. She has watched Bill Cunningham say with amusement the lesson she learned which he himself had learned from his bridge, "Use it [the camera] like a pen." And so she had, to capture regular the musings of the world, to make a replica of her angel's toothless smile, and to remind her of what happens when it all crashes down.

_"She's a tender age of sixteen, she."_

_"Gillian, shut your trap, boy!"_

_"Well she got herself knocked up. Do you think people won't talk, woman? No!"_

_"At the very least, give her some space. She's done nothing to you and Lord knows how much the girl's been through-"_

_"Hey," called a breathy voice that didn't belong. Arya looked to her right to find the source of disruption to her black and white movie night. Unsurprisingly, it was the young man whom Arya had invited to this small night picnic of hers. He was wearing his work attire that consists of a fancy tie, tailored suits including a waistcoat, and gleaming shoes. As amusing as she found this sight to be, the tiredness that was caused today tugged at her heart and she finally relented._

_The girl lets out the same whispery reply before scooting over the blanket and heaps of pillows stretched out on damp grass. In a swift movement, the blond intruder invites his companion closer to his chest, his arm securely around her, her head on his shoulder. His gentle exhales blew her brunette locks softly. Whilst the young man's left hand traces circles on his lady's palms, the other busied itself with the little bundle between the couple._

_This was her tradition. On the third Saturday nights of the month, Arya would watch movies in the park where they held free screenings. She would lay down the picnic blanket, pillows, and lushes of drinks and foods. Sometimes she would go alone, sometimes in a big group. It all depends on the mood and tonight it was just the three of them._

_"Where have you been?" sighed Arya._

_"I was caught up with work, I'm sorry. Did you wait long?"_

_"No, it's fine. We had a stroll around the park when Sans wouldn't stop crying"_

_He chuckled, "Did she give you a hard time?"_

_"No more than necessary."_

_"Good," he smiled._

_The male of the two carefully caressed the baby propped up in Arya's arms. His smile warmed at the sight of the baby brunette who kept on sleeping. Her little curls were tinged with subtle golden streaks. Cheeks pink and plump, eyes, if open, were sky blue._

_"Can you believe it's only been a few months?" inquired the young man. _

_"Since this little miracle came to this world?" _

_He looked into her eyes, his own orbs reflecting the answer._

_"I know," and she did. Trying to comfort him, she nudged his jaw, only to find herself wrapped in a tighter embrace._

_Amongst the other watchers that lay across their own piles of picnic blankets, food, and wine, the three on this grey square flooring felt the most peaceful. As the movie continued, Mattia kissed the little one on the nose and proceeded to kiss his own lady's temple. She gave out a chuckle and turned back towards the screen._

_"Don't get all sentimental on me now, Mattia."_

_"As my lady commands," teased he._

_Her glare that came afterwards said a lot._

Gendry Waters is not a man of love. He never shared a bed with anyone before and he shunned out those related by blood to him, sparing his mother. The young lawyer knew of his father, Robert Baratheon, who had come to him asking for a chance that he might come to Robert's office and work with the old fool. Gendry said no. He wouldn't work with the sod that saw his mother as a mere piece of meat and kept them out on the edge of life without even caring to glance. Gendry's own success to this day proved his capability as a self-made man who did not need a bastard of a father. He wouldn't have it any other way even if the road was long and hard.

"The final ones, I see," Gendry looked up to find Hot Pie leaning on their doorframe as his hands continue to pick up the last of his belongings.

"Yeah."

"Why do you have to move? I mean look at all the fun we had!"

"You mean all the times I wake up on the floor because you decided to be scared of everything and 'cuddle' with me?"

"Well I can't help it, mother says it's an ailment!"

"What, your existence?"

The chubby one pouted, "That wasn't very nice."

"And I couldn't stand any of your snoring anymore. Sorry, mate."

"I do not snore!"

"Yes, you do," he smirked.

"No, I don't-"

"What, snore?" asked Lommy who had just walked into the room, "Yeah you do. You need help there, mate?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Hot Pie and Lommy were Gendry's flatmates. The former works as a baker and the latter a doctor, believe it or not. Hot Pie's love for food is thoroughly expressed through the amount of time he spends around them... and his name. Apparently, his mother was eating what she thought was the greatest apple pie she ever tasted when she was pregnant with the child. And so, out of ideas and deeply infatuated with the pie, she named the child Hot Pie. The love for anything gustatory really runs in the family.

Lommy on the other hand is known for his cynical personality and even more notorious for being scared of blood. He can't really explain why he decided to become a doctor, a surgeon. To this day, he still gets queasy at the sight of gore. He's just 'intriguing' that way.

Gendry met them through his contacts. As soon as he graduated law school, he was in dire need of a flat. A few acquaintances of Gendry's introduced him to the two then-already-flatmates. It was only a matter of time before the three of them built some sort of understanding and added a new member to 362 Harrenhal Street.

Now, with Gendry's success blooming and desire for independence burning, he finally decided to move into his own apartment. It's a nice cosy apartment that respects privacy and is closer to his law firm. The majority of the residents there are working adults without any offspring. Meaning, unwanted noise is rare. Today is the day the young man picks up his last possessions from 362 Harrenhal Street and into his new apartment.

"See you, then," he nods as he stopped to look at his two soon to be ex-flatmates.

"Keep in touch."

"I will." A few man hugs and he was off. Off into the new home he hopes brings new opportunities. Oh, it will.

_"Sansa, Sansa, no! No!" _

_Trapped in the world of Mischa Maisky, Arya Stark did not notice the newborn baby that was crawling across the room and picking up what she thought was a white candy. It wasn't candy. The owner of the house barely even knew what it was but she knew it was good. It's meant to keep insects away or drive off the smell of wood or something. Arya knew not what those things are, but she knew they are not to be eaten. _

_"Spit it out. Spiiit it," cooed Arya. Nothing worked. The mysterious white marble was somewhere inside little Sansa. The older of the two could not open the infant's mouth for a while, but was finally able to. The marble was no longer there._

_"Shit!" Arya couldn't help but panic. She instantly rose from where she was sitting on the floor with baby Sans on her left hip. Quick as a lightning, she grabbed her mobile, her wallet, their shoes, the mothball packaging, and the little one's coat. The Stark ran and repeatedly pressed the elevator button going down. Once in and out into the lobby, she dashed some more and dialled Mattia._

_"Milady."_

_"Mattie!" Mattia's spine straightened from where he was sitting on his desk. For all his life, the man never knew Arya to be one for nicknames. The only times she'd ever call someone with a nickname, however simple it may be, is in times of extremities. And from her huffed and puffed shriek over the phone, he knew it was not a good one. He didn't hesitate to ask._

_"What is it? What's wrong?"_

_"Sansa," huffed Arya once more, "She swallowed one of the white candy looking thing you gave me. The one to keep insects away or something!"_

_"What!" He wanted to panic too, but Arya was already doing enough of it for two. _

_"What should I do?"_

_"Okay, okay, I don't know how serious it is, but I'll ring Ormond and tell them you're coming. I'm going there right now. Just, calm down, okay? Can you get a taxi?"_

_"I will if a certain someone would stop worrying and hang up the phone," he smirked._

_"Sorry, I'll hang up. Get them ready!"_

_"I will, see you."_

_"Bye."_

"You alright, Tom?"

"I'm fine, sir," smiled the bellboy who had come to help Gendry carry his boxes.

"Huh," mused the new resident, "That was quite a show."

"It was indeed. It's not everyday you get to see a car door slam me on the backside. Did you enjoy it?" He asked with a big grin.

Laughter escaped Gendry's lips. He wouldn't say it, but he did enjoy it. It was amusing though pitiful what his new friend experienced. Tom was just reaching into the car to take his last box of books when out of nowhere came a longhaired brunette in a structured blue dress layered with a tan knit jumper and very high boots. She was carrying a child roughly the age of four on her left hip. From the moment she came out of the double door, Gendry noticed she was on the phone. Judging by the way her face was scrunched up like his normal tablecloth state, he guessed it must have been a very urgent call.

"Can you get there as soon as possible? Get me the first flight out, you hear me? Thanks, Owen."

The young woman glanced down at her phone for a second before feeling a force from behind her. She lost her footing in the crowded street and bumped into the car door that soon kicked Tom further in. He ended up sprawled over the car floor, backside throbbing. The young woman quickly opened the door and gave him a hand, somehow still massing to hold her phone and the child.

"Tom! Oh Gosh, I am so, so sorry! Are you alright?"

"Hey, no, it's fine. Arya, I'm fine. Are _you_ fine, though? You seem to be doing a lot of running."

She cringed, "Yeah, it's nothing, just work. Sorry, I'd love to talk, but I have to go. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I am. Go, just go."

"Catch you later, then!"

With a last wave, the young woman ran off.

Throughout the whole exchange, Gendry just stood stunned with his own share of boxes beside the passenger door. It was a very funny sight from where he was standing, but he couldn't help but wonder about the girl in the young woman's arm who looked a tad bit too sleepy to be brought out.

Gendry and Tom now walk down the corridor of the 26th floor towards Gendry's room. They've walked down this path several times now and met as well as bonded over the journey of moving his things.

"So, do you know her?

"Who, the person who bumped into me?"

"Well you can hardly call that bumping, it's more like ramming you in. Yes, her."

"Ha-ha, very funny. And yes, I know Miss Stark. You'll soon learn that the staff knows pretty much everyone in this building."

"Ah, so this is one of those places, eh? I wonder what got her so… rushed. From the way she was running, it must have been something urgent."

Much to Gendry's chagrin, Tom smirked, "Oh, checking out a female 'running,' are we?" Gendry shoved the clumsy lad and got a laugh. "Yes, she did look rather dishevelled, but she said it was just work again."

"Hey, go open the door!"

"Yes, milord," teased the ever helpful Tom with a touch of rolling eyes.

_Great Ormond Street Hospital was a bit far from where she was living, but Arya ran like there was no tomorrow for the child she was carrying. By the time they arrived at the hospital, she was asked to review the information Mattia gave the hospital and to give the mothball packaging to the nurses. They took Sansa for some testing whilst she was crying. Arya was teary herself when she was left on the waiting area. She was fairly certain Sans won't need surgery, but who knows. The doctors need to check how dangerous the 'white candy' is first._

_Now the panicked girl stood on a somewhat abandoned area, scanning through posters though not reading at all. Her Vans made steady taps on the hospital floor. She probably looked like a mess now with her long hair tied into a messy bun, washed out jeans loose and rolled up at different lengths, and white fitting long-sleeve shirt with thin navy blue stripes making her look like a pirate. She didn't care, though. Arya just wanted to hear the good news and cut off all ties with this thing called "worry."_

_Without anything else to do, she decided to head down to the vending machine. A few clicks and more pounds later, she got her coffee. She's actually stopped feeding off of them like she would oxygen after Sansa was born, but now she'd give anything to keep herself distracted. _

_The wolf was sitting on one of the plastic chairs when a figure sat down two chairs away from her. He sipped his coffee and let the silence fall upon them for a while before gathering the courage to talk._

_"The coffee's here not the best thing," she snorted, "but it does the job. Waiting for someone?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"She'll be alright."_

_She finally looked up at the man's face. His black hair that's as dark as his eyes deeply contrast his pale white skin. The skinny man wore a white coat with badges - random, colourful ones that clash with his serious spectacled look._

_"How do you know she will be? And how do you know she's a she?"_

_"The doctors here are brilliant, and I saw the commotion."_

_"Oh."_

_"So what happened? If you don't mind me asking."_

_She sighed, "She ate this white marble in the clothes rack. It's silly really to think it won't do much harm."_

_"Ah, the old mothball. And no, it's not silly. A lot of people have made the same mistake, some even worse."_

_More silence._

_"Do you remember the kind of mothball she ate?"_

_"What?"_

_"The white marble she swallowed, its ingredient. It's probably written on the back of the packaging. Was it naphthalene or paradichlorobenzene?"_

_"Uh, paradichlorobenzene."_

_"Well, at least the toxic level is lower. What time did this happen?"_

_"18 minutes ago."_

_The doctor looked at the wall, calculating, "She'll be alright."_

_For once, Arya felt slightly relieved. She was also thankful she ran everyday for it seemed to serve a purpose on days such as this. The doctor beside her leaned against the chair, lost in his own train of thoughts until once again he broke the silence._

"_Can I just ask- did you run here?"_

_Arya was getting annoyed at his question, but nonetheless glad for the distraction._

"_Yes."_

"_Wow, where are you from?"_

"_A sane woman wouldn't give out her home location for safety reasons."_

_He chuckled, "Ah, but no one is sane in this world."_

"_Is there a reason you're bothering me, sir?"_

"_It's not bothering if the other party answers, is it?"_

"_You are unbelievable. And may I just add your fashion sense is atrocious."_

"_Coming from the girl with leaves sticking out on her hair."_

"_Oh, shut up."_

_The doctor couldn't help but enjoy their banter. He hoped he has a chance in getting more of them in the future, "The next time something like this happens, just ring me."_

_With an eyebrow raised, Arya watched the man jot down his digits on a piece of paper and hand it to her._

_"Is this what you do, then? Comfort strangers one minute, insult them the second, and hit on them the next?"_

_"Good to know I managed to comfort you."_

_"Don't give yourself that much credit."_

_"You don't like it?"_

_"No."_

_"Well if you must know, you have the honour of becoming my first victim."_

_She squinted, "This is your first time running this scheme?"_

_"It's not a scheme and yes, it is."_

_"And how do I know you're not lying and you're not actually a manic sexual predator dressed as a doctor?"_

_"Ouch. The lady knows how to hurt. And you don't, I could show you my credentials, but you'll probably think it's forged or something," he laughed. The girl looked him up, contemplating whether or not she should believe this mysterious doctor. She must admit he does intrigue her though. He reminded her of someone she knew once a long time ago._

_"Alright, say I believe you. Why are you doing this?"_

_"I felt like it."_

_Arya threw her head back with laughter, "Ha! That's a lame excuse!"_

_"It _is_?" mocked the doctor, giving out a wolfish grin. _

_Finally, she snatched the paper from his grasped and replied, "Yes, it is. And I'll only be calling for professional help. You may not hit on me and you will only serve as an acquaintance."_

_The doctor laughed, "Alright! But what now, you're taken?"_

_She smiled and gave no answer._

_The doctor could feel where this was going. No, this was not like any of his first meetings with his lovers. He knew that the most this young woman of nineteen in front of him would be is a great friend. You see, this person here had a knack for judging the people's potential. If he knew they'd hit it off, he wouldn't hesitate to approach. _

_There was something in the way that Arya carried herself that drew him in. Not in a romantic way, no. It was more like when a child found a new object and can't help but explore it. Maybe she had charisma. Lord knows what it was. He'll dig the answer out later but for now, he'd settle for a handshake._

_"Then nice to meet you, miss. I'm Owen. Owen Calibre."_

_"Tasha. Natasha Shepard."_

_"Arya!" Shouted Mattia's voice from behind her._

_"Or not," he simpered._

_"What can I say, I'm an onion," she whispered before shooting away to her other company, paper at hand. Owen guffawed whilst shaking his head at the girl whose spirit seems to have lifted just by a fraction._

In a dim hotel room somewhere in Paris, once a girl and now a woman, Arya sat free of emotion on the edge of the bed. When the door clicked open and soon clicked close not long after, she raised her head slightly, eyes still glazing with shock.

"Owen," the tremble that slipped past her throat did not go amiss by the new room occupant's ears. "Ow'n," this time she allowed her face to scrunch up and her voice to pitch up high. Arya allowed her body to buckle, her vocal cord shriek and screech, and tears run pricking treks as her whole body curled. Her heart burnt, it hurt, it hurt so, so much. She felt warmth envelop her shaking form and crumpled into it. Her cries were loud and her face was red. Arya's nail gnawed at her now messy hair and scalp. Her body shook with great force and her muscles spasm without permission. Another screech and she found herself rocked against the only other person in the room in a ball. Back and forth. Back and forth.

"Shh, shh…"He didn't know what to say or what to do. The man can't offer her the comfort that she needed. All he could do was this stupid thing. His eyes burned with uninvited tears. He hushed and rocked them back and forth. Cursing he could do nothing but this.

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**AN**: If you haven't already figured it out, Arya's story jumps a lot in time. The events still ascend though and so does Gendry's. Their timelines just don't match up. There will probably be less of this in the next chapters. And since this is the first chapter and therefore only a preview into the magical world of complexities, I decided to hide a lot, that's why it seems rushed. Don't kill me :)


	2. AN

**AN: Please don't worry, the first chapter of Dead Hearts was supposed to be confusing as a whole… if that makes sense. The writing in italics is basically Arya's past. It's sort of like a brief look into the characters that are important in her life, such as Mattia, Sansa (the baby, yes there is an explanation to this), and Owen. Gendry's story, however, do happen in the present. The last part of the chapter we see Arya cry her friend's name. This will happen in the future. **

**Unless it really was my bad writing, please don't fret. It will all be explained and possibly relived in the next chapters. Call it what you will, a trailer or preview, perhaps. Thanks for telling me your problems with it. I'll try my best to explain it more clearly in the future. **

**x belleami**


	3. Chapter 2

**AN**: I am so sorry! I know I haven't uploaded in a long time, but I really haven't abandoned the story. School just started for me and even the first few weeks of IB DP is gruesome. And guess what, I wrote Targaryen and the auto check in Microsoft Word suggested "margarine" instead. How are the two alike?

Disclaimer – I own none of these characters, the ASOIAF series, television series, the title and song(It belongs to Stars), or any of the other things mentioned here that I missed

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_.:. Chapter 2 .:._

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One can only know the satisfaction of finally being finished moving houses when one has gone through the pains of it. At the moment, Gendry is in that bubble of high which will probably soon burst at the sight of first dust. It was his third day here and there were still things to unpack. The man looked around, marvelling at his new home. It wasn't such a shabby job he did on this house. The moment you enter the white door, the peaceful atmosphere will blow any guests away. The walls were painted dark grey and the furry rugs were black. His furniture was either white or mahogany. All in all, the apartment looked very professional and very Gendry.

Taking the box he's been carrying towards his shelf, the lawyer started picking up his last few books and arranging them by author. Most of the books he owned were related to law, whether it is fiction or non-fiction. As he sorted them out, the cardboard box started to get empty. He was just about to put the last content on the shelf along with the others when he stopped to see that it was the one special book he always kept within arms reach. It was "The Little Prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. The one Gendry has is the 1995 Wordsworth Edition with the purple background covering the top half of the front cover. It was old and torn with crayon marks gracing the cover and folds trademarking the novella. Yet even though the spine was peeling off, Gendry Waters still adore the book. He picked it up and caressed the piece of work, remembering the time when he first got it and read it. Eleven-year-old Gendry had begged his mother for a bike for his birthday. Unfortunately, they were a bit short on money and she couldn't give her son what he wanted. It broke her heart when she saw the disappointment on his young face. His mother wanted to give Gendry something else, but could only come up with the little novella she found on a bookstore just a few blocks away from their home. The first time Gendry read it, he didn't understand a thing. All he saw was the childish story that everybody else saw. He almost gave up with it when his mother told him to read between the lines. Slowly, as he grew older, Gendry Waters begin to see the deeper meaning behind each word and now, The Little Prince held a special place in his heart.

Looking back, this was the only book Gendry grew up with. He wasn't ashamed to say that it's still his favourite book at the age of twenty-eight. A smile flittered across his face and he finally put the book down along with the others. With all his belongings finally placed where they were supposed to be, he sat down his desk just a few paces away from the opened balcony doors. Opening his reference books and laptop, Gendry continued the work he hoped to sort out quickly before the gathering.

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_Dear Nerea,_

_The caterpillar form I was born into can't help but wish for the days to pass, November to arrive, and for me to transform into the butterfly I have yet to be. That day will come, I am sure of it. Like how the hideously deformed beast from "Beauty and the Beast" turned back into the gorgeous prince he was, I, Sansa Stark, will evolve into the beauty that I am._

_Today was very eventful. I love it and I loathe it. Many friends of mine got hurt both emotionally and physically, but worse of all, I don't feel bad for the girl who got hurt. She, in turn, hurt my male friend and ridiculed him. Sometimes I can't believe I even know some of my friends. Society is demanding, though, and I desperately need to fit in._

_At the same time, today was magical. I had a dream… two, actually. The first dream, I very much enjoyed. I was able to save a friend from her own deathbeds and she didn't even know she was dying. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and went up to her place. A male friend that was accompanying us in the crypt shot me a worried glance since he knew that I took her place._

_The second dream was a mystery. I "liked" someone in this dream and I think I do in reality too. I was at a house, I'm pretty sure it's mine, and the vision was all in sepia. My sister has married a guy and moved out of the city to find her own house. In the dream, I've graduated university and already got a job. I've bought my own house and my mother would drop in from time to time. It wasn't shown in the dream, but it's one of those things that you just know and felt._

_At the beginning, there was only me in there. The silence of the living room was slowly killing my insides, but that silence was soon filled in by the most marvellous man I have ever met._

_He was tall, lean, strong but not too muscular, dark-haired, handsome, charming, gentle, sweet, loving, funny… okay, I'm rambling :) but most of all, it wasn't the "he" that I thought I liked in both dream and reality._

_Anyway, the mysterious man appeared in my living room out of nowhere. He closed the space between us and smiled. The first series of words he uttered was, "Do you want to try?" That alone made my face blush furiously. I knew what he was implying, and I did want to. But all the morals passed down our family tree made me hesitate for a second. Just a second, before I made up my mind and knew I wanted in._

_Once he got an answer, the mystery man brought his left hand up and traced my bodice, soon stopping at my waist. I knew that he knew full well of my feelings towards him and I couldn't help but giggle like a lunatic. The thought of me being together with him is just improbable and impossible. Although I couldn't fully wrap my mind around it, I was glad it wasn't him._

_Unlike the other guy, this man right here is fully capable of making me laugh and filling in the loneliness I have never noticed before with oozing love. He lifts my heart and gives me "pixie dust." He can make me do the impossible and he makes even hell feels like my own personal paradise. Submerged in my own train of thoughts, I didn't notice him taking his clothes off and me already stripped off of all of mine._

_As hard as it is to believe, we didn't do anything intimate. Trust me. He just laid me down the long bronze L-shaped couch with my pale hands sprawled above me. As awkward as it sounds, I was wearing nothing but my panties. Weird enough, I wasn't embarrassed. I was too caught up and mesmerized by the beauty in front of me; a beauty I thought I could never own._

_His hands traced me gently, but abruptly stopped when I stifled a giggle. He smirked and asked the oh-so-cliché, "Like what you see?" I couldn't help it. The giggle turned into a full-blown laughter. It got even louder when he started tickling my soft spots. Tears sprung up my eyes as I plead for mercy. I couldn't take anymore tickling and all this barking laughter is really getting me tired._

_By the time he stopped, we were back into position. I was already weak though, as he leant in much closer. He was towering on top of my limp figure and his hands were in between my head and my bent up arms. We didn't move for about a minute. I was aware of being caught under his watchful gaze as I myself watched his beautiful figure too. We didn't do anything and I was too content sinking into his eyes to even care. I thank God that this wonderful man before me was born. Life before him would be miserable._

_"You're beautiful," he whispered as his deep blue eyes glazed over mine. Bile got stuck on my throat and I didn't know what to say. It's been a while since someone said that and actually made me believe it. Perhaps that sounds silly because I'm "Sansa, the beautiful one." At the end of the day it doesn't matter what other people think. Your words are all that matters._

_The thudding against my chest got louder and louder as the mystery man started leaning in ever so slowly. My breath hitched and my eyes glossed over him and his lush lips that is now just millimetres short of mine. It was the most wonderful event that could ever happen to me; dream or not. It was as if the world was conspiring to fulfil my wish. Nothing else mattered. No one else bothered me, until this one person barged into my house and interrupted us. My mother._

_To say it was embarrassing is an understatement. As if on instinct, my body pushed itself against the back of the couch. What surprised me was that man. He didn't hide, nor did he try to cover himself up or even attempt to explain to her what was going on. Instead of doing any of that, this person whom I assume I love only sat up in front of me, covered me, and gently pushed me back. It took a few seconds before my brain could process what on heaven's name was he doing when I suddenly realised he was protecting me. He was shielding me from my own birth mother, not physically, but rather emotionally. It was when his palms pressed into my waist that I realized he was familiar of the words that would pierce through my heart. And leave behind its permanent marks. He knew well of the people who have hurt me, if not severely, occasionally. This man knew of the judging ways my mother was known to pride herself with. He knew me well and he loved me too. I couldn't ask for a better companion, even if it was just a dream. Oh, I hope he was out there somewhere. If you are, please come soon and carry me away from this nightmare of a life that I currently walk upon._

_Most fondly yours,_

_Sansa Stark_

_Thump_. Arya closed the book with a sigh. How this person came to be so dramatic, she honestly did not know. It was on rare occasions like this that she allowed her eyes to marvel over Sansa's so called dream book. No, it wasn't baby Sansa. This book belonged to Sansa Stark, elder sister of Arya Stark whose name was then used for the little darling who is currently in nursery school as we speak.

Today is a Monday and Arya really should be at work. She was planning on dropping Sansa off at her nursery school first before going to the art gallery where she works. It is a one of a kind day though, and things didn't quite go as planned. Her boss, Danaerys Targaryen, wanted her to pick up some paperwork urgently and had told her that she didn't need to come to the gallery until six o'clock in the evening. Apparently, a legal company reserved the venue for a fancy anniversary party. The event planners were now gathered in the gallery, preparing for the event and all the curators, including Arya herself, was allowed to go home until six where it was their turn to entertain the guests.

With a heavy heart, the grown wolf rose to her feet and placed the book back in the drawer where it belonged. She remembered a time when her brothers and herself would tease Sansa about the book. The redheaded girl claimed it was a dream book, but they knew it was just a diary to satisfy her romantic needs. Some of the pages were wrinkled and brown from where Joffrey "accidentally" spilled coffee on. The blonde Baratheon was a spoiled brat who fed off from people's misery. He was also courting Arya's sister back in the late 90s. Thankfully, Sansa realized what a piece of work he really was and cut off all ties with him. It was a hard fight, and not without some repercussions.

Sitting back down beside the open balcony door, Arya looked up towards the clear blue sky. She still had seven hours to spend and an hour of that would be used eating lunch with Mattia in a few minutes. She contemplated going for a walk to clear her head first before meeting him. Arya didn't know what she should be doing, so she chose to step out into the balcony, leaned her head back, and opened her mouth. This was her routine. What she does on days like this. In a few seconds, a soulful lone voice will resound through the air and into the room above.

* * *

Four hours have passed since Gendry buried his head in piles and piles of books, papers, and laptop. And then, he heard it. A singing voice, one really disturbing voice. Gendry couldn't hear the exact words sung as he was still intent on shutting it out, but he did hear some.

"…_lights inside… eyes… moved forward and… heart… they… forward and my … died_…"

It wasn't so much bad as it was distracting. In fact, if he had stopped to listen, Gendry would surely find the singing voice enthralling. But of course, he hadn't. All he was aware of was the loudness of the voice and that it was disrupting his work. Time and time again he tried to ignore it, face scrunching up as each second pass. The moment his fingers were turning white from his death grip around the pen and he could hear his own teeth forcefully grinding each other, he gave up keeping his calm. That voice was _terribly_ distracting.

"Blooming…" throwing the pen on the floor, Gendry stood up and walked towards the balcony. He begrudgingly bit back a string of profanities, not wanting to appear as a deranged and uneducated temperamental neighbour on his first few days here. When he finally arrived on the balcony itself, only pregnant silence greeted him. The lawyer made a twisted, confused face that would scare any child away. He was left dumbfounded. Had it all just been his imagination?

"Great, now I'm losing my mind," he mumbled, turning back towards his living room and closing the doors behind him. Gendry never gave any thought about the voice being true. He had work to do and nothing to distract him again. But now that he was on the verge of losing his mind, the blue-eyed lad might as well take a breather.

Deciding he's had enough work for the afternoon, Gendry picked up his mobile and dialled Katie, a.k.a. Weasel. The twenty one year old girl is a friend of Hot Pie's. She is still in university studying History of Art. She's sharp and very feisty. Everyone who knew her and Hot Pie still has a hard time fathoming why a girl full of brilliance knew the sometimes-empty-headed baker. Gendry heard the two were neighbours when they were little. How they became close, he still did not know. It's been a while since Gendry last saw her and he's just trying to make sure she's still alive.

"Why haven't you called me back?" was the first thing he heard when the other caller picked up the call.

"Ouch, did you have to shout so loudly?"

"Yes! Now why haven't you picked up your phone?"

He blanched, "Haven't picked up the phone? You never called!"

"I always call, I tried calling you everyday! I thought you were dead or something since I haven't heard from you in months." Ah, so he wasn't the only one.

"I didn't get any missed calls, Weasel. Are you sure you had the right number?"

"Are you sure you have a brain?" she snarled. Conversations with this girl always end up in banter. They all knew she is just playing, though. Arguments are actually a way of expressing her adoration for others.

"I still can't believe you're a lawyer. Who knew you had that much brainpower in you."

"Thank you for believing in me, your support is touching."

"Har har. So, what do you need?" she asked.

"What do you mean, 'what do I need'?"

He could almost see her rolling her eyes, "Everyone knows you never call unless you need something. Spit it out."

"I don't need anything!"

"Yes, you do. Maybe that's one of the reasons why you passed law school, networking. You're like a spider that sprouts out web from their assh-"

"Alright, alright, I get your point," interrupted the man. He really didn't need to hear a lesson on anatomy from the girl he sees as a kid sister so he proceeded with the question,

"Are you free tonight?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

He sighed, "The Company is hosting an anniversary party tonight. It starts at six in a nearby gallery. I know how much you love art. Can you come?"

"Pray tell me, Gendry Waters. Why do you need a younger girl to chaperone you in a grown up party?"

"Because…"

"This is one of your networking project, is it?"

"Yep."

For a while, there was only silence on the other end of the phone. Gendry was beginning to think that she wouldn't go through with his plan when there was a booming,

"Alright, I'll come. _Not_ for you, but for the lovely paintings that awaits me."

The lawyer was beaming, maybe everything would work out after all. His smile, though, faltered when Weasel spoke again.

"Under one condition."

"Anything."

She smirks, "I get to drive."

Shit. He was going to regret this.

* * *

Arya was halfway through the song when there were rhythmic knocks on the door. She hurriedly went back inside knowing full well who it was. There was only one man she knew who would knock the door like thudding heartbeats. Still in a red jumper and jeans, she opened the door to reveal a professional looking Mattia.

"Ready?"

"Of course. I just have to get a few things," she scurried back inside, knowing full well the man in suit was hot on her tail. As she puts on her Vans and gathered her necessities, Mattia closed the door.

"Crisp as always, then," she comments.

"I only dress to please the ladies."

Arya scoffed, "Oh please, if you dress for the ladies, you would be naked."

"So you want me… nude?" asked the blond slowly, teasing.

"Lord, no! You burn these eyes enough."

The contrasting pair walked to a small, secluded café. Mattia wanted to offer that they drive there but he knew better than to ask, knowing Arya enjoyed walks no matter how polluted the air is. Along the way, they talked about a lot of things like how work was, what Sansa's doing in nursery school, and who Owen's current flirting victims are. The walk was calming, but Arya got even more excited when she saw the pastries lined in the café. After choosing several slices to take home and one slice of opera cake to eat there, she and Mattia sat beside the glass window. The sandwich, tea, and coffee arrived in a short notice and they continued their talk.

"Do you have anything planned for tonight?" asked Mattia, watching in wonder how a girl as slim as Arya could fit that giant slice of cake inside her mouth.

"Why?"

"I was going to ask if you're going to the anniversary party our partner company is hosting."

"Well it _is_ going to be held in my gallery."

He laughed, "Your gallery, that's right. I suppose that is one reason to go. Unfortunately for you, I happen to know that you hate dressing up and that you hate going to parties. So, is that a yes or a no?"

She pouted, "Yes." Both of them knew she really didn't want to go.

Mattia gave her a Cheshire grin, "Great. I'll pick you up at half past five. Wear something nice and don't forget to get someone to babysit Sansa. Someone we can trust."

And that she did.

It was a few hours later that Arya found herself in a state of panic. Mattia was due to arrive anytime soon and she couldn't find anything. The young wolf has just called in a friend to babysit Sansa whilst she goes out with Mattia. Now, she was looking for a missing shoe and trying to look presentable. Oh, how she hated going to parties.

"Did you have to call me up here so suddenly?"

"I need you to babysit Sansa for the night, is that alright?" Arya asked with a hopeful voice. She really only trusts Owen in making sure Sansa's safe.

The doctor thread through Arya's living room sulking like a child. He sat down on the white couch with the kid on his hands, Owen openly glaring at the other grown up. Arya, in her short green dress, was currently running around the house trying to collect all the things she needed for the night: a clutch, her phone, some money, her keys, and a missing heel. At the same time, she was combing her locks and attempting to tie it into a bun.

"You know, when I talked to you for the first time in the hospital I didn't expect to be signed up as babysitter at your beck and call," called Owen.

"Excuse me? First of all, I bet you wanted worse than that. And second, if I had another choice, you know I would take care of her myself."

She had a point, and he knew it.

"Fine, but I get to stay the night. I can only imagine what time you'll come back and I can't be bothered to carry all of Sans' stuff around."

Arya's face broke into a grin, "Oh, thank you, thank you! You won't regret this."

"Yeah, I'm sure I won't regret it if the baby threw food at me."

"Oh, come on, she's already four, Owen. She is fully capable of eating neatly. Aren't you, Sans?" she stopped for a while to pat the little girl's head, before breaking into a run again.

"'Ookie," Sansa pouted with her big doe eyes staring up at Owen. The grown man cringed. The kid was irresistible. Someone should really make an anti-Sansa vaccine and he needed to be the first one to get it. It was still a quarter-past-five and Owen wasn't about to give another chocolate chip cookie to a girl who's had six of them in the last hour.

"Awwh," he cried.

"Toughen up, Owen," shouted Arya from her bedroom.

"I can't deprive her of sugar!"

"Shame on you. And here I thought you were finally qualified as a doctor."

The little girl was still crying for the cookie in the hidden jar when the curator emerged from her bedroom. She puts on her white tweed jacket as she turned to the child, "Darling, you can't have another cookie. You've eaten enough of them for today. Why don't you save some for tomorrow?"

"Now!"

"Sansa..."

"'Ookie!"

"No-"

"I want n' 'ookie, gimme 'ookie, mummy!" Both grown-ups stilled. Out of all the ways she thought she would've lost her patience, _this_ was not on Arya's list. Arya wasn't expecting Sansa to bring up a subject she wasn't ready for. She thought she really was, but everyone who "knows" knew she wasn't.

"I am not your mot-!" it slipped out before she could stop herself. By the time she realized the shout she had almost finished, Owen was already giving her a concerned look. She vaguely heard him urge the child to go play in her room and Sansa shuffling there, her infancy-self very unaware of the tense atmosphere. When the child was no longer in the room, Owen stood to his feet and closed the distance between the Stark and himself. Arya's head was facing sideways and her eyes were glued to the wall. She could feel Owen close to her breathing,

"Alright?"

She didn't respond, nor did she give Owen a hint that she heard him. He stayed where he was. Arya averted her cold, slightly watery gaze down towards the floor before looking into the man's dark orbs.

"She is not my daughter."

His brow furrowed further down in worry. The doctor wanted to answer her, but he knew he couldn't. So Owen simply watched as Arya turned her back towards him, gathering her clutch, and heading towards the front door. It clicked once top open, another to close. Owen never got the chance to tell her his response.

* * *

**AN**: Review, please and thank you! :*

P.S. I won't be using the time jumps anymore unless it's for a very, very important reason.


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